The Need For Tea
by NoteEmmy
Summary: Ishizu can't calm her mind after a long night at work. Going out for tea after feeling something wrong might have been her biggest mistake. Ishizu\Yami Bakura


There was something in the crisp fall air that night, something that left Ishizu feeling unusually unsettled. It was a deep, stirring sort of feeling that propelled itself further with each beat of her heart. It set her nerves on end. Her hands were shaking harder with every effort to ignore it and finally she broke, turning from her desk to peer over her shoulder. Of course, as she had thought, nothing was there.

A lot of work had to be done tonight so she didn't have time for silly and petulant feelings of fear brought on only by the darkness. Even for one such as her who had experienced such intense servings knew better. She knew she didn't have time to dwell. But even as she turned on the overhead lights in the museum office and shut and locked the windows, drawing the curtains, none of it helped to calm her.

Eventually she set to pacing the office before going to the small stove she had installed in the corner. She reached up to the cabinets to grab her teapot and the box of her favorite black tea. In picking it up it felt abysmally light and she feared for the worst. Opening it only proved her suspicious right. She couldn't remember who had had the last of the tea, whether it had been her or perhaps she had served it to a visitor or guest, but none of that mattered now.

It was the middle of the night, she couldn't focus, her nerves were flared, and she was out of tea.

A trip to the store would have to be made. Even though she knew Malik was most likely awake, tooling away at his latest acquired motorbike in his garage only a few blocks away, even though she knew he would have preferred that she called before leaving, even if she knew Rishid who was most likely asleep in his apartment only a couple of streets over and would have also preferred she called, her jacket was slipped on and not a single phone call was made. She was a grown woman. She was not scared of the Domino City streets. Not really. Not even with that feeling still looming tightly around her. …no, she would not give any credence to it.

Luckily the small twenty-four hour shop near the museum always carried her brand of tea. This was due in part to a large, healthy donation. One couldn't just try to be an outstanding member of her community without helping out her local shops. This one in particular was the one that carried her bi-weekly fliers and had even partnered with her for deals on half price tickets when a customer bought special items. So yes, they always had her tea. And for that she was grateful.

On the particular occasion she indulged herself a little, buying a few bars of dark chocolate in tandem with two boxes of that black tea that kept her running. She greeted and bid the clerk farewell in less time than she had quoted herself for when leaving the museum's back door. Already she was working on a fine schedule.

The way back seemed much longer than the way there, however, and the cold chill of wind nipped at her face harder than before. Then the feeling of unease came back, settling in her chest. When she tried to forcibly remove it with logical thoughts it only grew worse. Worse and worse, in fact, until it overcame her. It became hard to breathe and soon she heard footsteps behind her. It wasn't just a set of footsteps that indicated another cold late-night traveler. No, these footsteps were following her. They were close, but not close enough so that if she were to suddenly jerk and swing they'd be downed. Worst of all, they tried to cover themselves by keeping in tandem with her, and they stopped when she did too.

But she just couldn't bring herself to look over her shoulder, like this would save her, as if not acknowledging that she was being followed would make it all go away. Then, unfortunately, the footsteps drew out of synch with hers- purposefully, if she had to analyze it. She couldn't help it; despite her better wishes Ishizu picked up her pace. The footsteps behind her did too and yet remained a calm tempo somehow.

Finally she got up the nerve to dare them. To dare them to continue following her. She stopped completely and turned her head to the side, though her eyes were still not looking.

"This is not a wise course of action." She said sternly, surely, proudly. She was not a woman to be preyed upon. This was the message she was trying to convey.

There was quiet in the air. Perhaps her follower was rethinking their decision and about to leave. But then she heard it, chuckling that began quiet at first and then grew louder and louder before she was faced with a bloodcurdling laughter that made her sick to her stomach. She had heard that laughter before. And finally as her commonsense overcame her pride her eyes inched to the side. She saw those dark eyes, that white, jagged hair and those gleaming fangs. Not those of her brother's nightmare- those of the other nightmare. The true nightmare.

"_Bakura_." She dared. She dared speak that name and draw him into a reality in which he didn't exist anymore.

The laughter stopped dead. His arms opened wide as if he was inviting her in before he gave her a sole piece of advice-

"_**Run.**_"

There were a lot of things to be said about Ishizu. She was a dutiful woman. She was a calm woman. She was a levelheaded woman. She did not give in to threats. She faced her fears.

Yet facing down someone who was most assuredly dead, someone who did not belong in this realm, someone who was defeated and yet someone who was standing right there- staring at her murderously, tip of his tongue touching one of his fangs-

She took off.

The bag she had purchased was left to the ground. The museum would be no safe place. All those relics, there would be some way that he would twist them to his will. Maybe she should have made the call to Malik after all. How ridiculous, the elder sister needing her baby brother to protect her. That was her job. But now, now after all this time, she needed someone.

One corner and then the next, and then an unfortunate wrong turn down a twisting, tight alleyway. No, not wrong. This was the quicker back way to Malik's garage. Her brain was still working where her instinct was trying to overcome her. She couldn't breathe and soon at the peak of every intake she was whimpering. Never in her life had she felt so much fear, not even when her father had been murdered, not even when her brother had been taken over, not even when the world hung in the balance- _why now?_

Thinking so hard she missed a garbage can lid that slid underneath one of her feet, taking her for a tumble, forcing her to reach out to catch herself along a wall. And that's when he came up on her. His body pressed against hers, slamming her against the cold brick and mortar. She was staring into those crazed, soulless eyes as he leaned in.

"You-" Trying to say something, anything, as she started squirming.

His hands found hers, lacing their fingers together as if they were young lovers, bringing them up over her head and he pressed in harder. "Me." He breathed out, flashing those fangs at her.

In one quick move he'd pressed so close he was finally nose to nose, daring her to move again and when she didn't he laughed right in her face. And then he did the worst thing of all. He kissed her.

And that was all it took for Ishizu to jerk awake on the desk in the office of the museum. She was panting, covered in sweat and all too unsure that was a dream. It felt real. She could feel the fire on her lips and the still tight uncomfortableness in her entire body. Her hand went to her forehead, wiping away the sweat and trying to resettle her bangs.

Slowly she stood from her desk, going to open the locked window of the office to let the cool breeze in. Intrinsically she went over to the cabinets, only to discover her teapot had already been taken to the stove, already filled with water. There was an empty black tea box sitting in the small garbage pail near by. She froze. She didn't want to look. She tried hard not to. Maybe if she went home, maybe if she went to Malik or Rishid, anything but-

Her blue eyes went to the door where a small brown bag rested.

An overwhelming feeling of suffocation circled in before she went to her knees. The woman shuddered before forcing her eyes to close.

Peeking over the top of the bag was propped a box of her favorite black tea.


End file.
